


voyage

by Syain



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Sort of an AU, everything in this fic is very ambigious, it's fake deep shit, lol, look - Freeform, ok, they both die, voyage au, what can i say, which is the reason for 'major character death'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 19:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17230277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syain/pseuds/Syain
Summary: i've had this stuck in my system since forever, so now i finally got it out. it is loosely based on leningrad's voyage.





	voyage

The burning carcass of a beat-up car warmed his face. Digging into his hand was the strap of a duffle bag; the weight heavier than anything he had ever imaged, something he had to carry with him as a memento to lives lost and nothing gained.

He turned his back to the car.

The tear had already dried on his cheek as he walked away.

 

The money was splurged.

New clothes, expensive cars, a yacht, champagne, women, drugs.

The possibilities were endless. It was maddening.

It didn’t fill the void carved into his chest. A bleeding wound he tried to bandage with money. It did nothing but bleed harder. It never wanted to stop.

 

It had been a simple job. They had scoped out the scene; a bank.

Just the two of them against the world, just as always. They had been so full of life, of joy, of recklessness.

They wanted a taste of freedom and power.

Of money.

They had gotten a taste of bullets and blood.

 Of death.

 

The beat and lights of the club distorted his senses. The light blinking at him, like little stars from the ceiling as he flew across the room.

The taste of expensive champagne and coke on the tip of his tongue.

He felt so light. There wasn’t a worry left in his body.

Turning, he saw the face of a dead man.

Time stopped.

 

He had been bleeding from a bullet hole in the chest, hugging the duffle bag.

There was blood all over the car.

He had tried to stop the bleeding. Trying to save the future they had planned together.

They still had so much to do together, so much to see. They finally had the money to do it, and now he was slipping away, like sand through the fingers.

He had covered the car in gasoline, lighting it on fire.

He watched the flames consume his love’s lifeless face.

 

He had reached out, marveled at the feeling of cold flesh beneath his hand.

There was a dull sound of sirens in the distance.

He carefully ran his fingers cross his lover’s lips, feeling the scar. They were both here.

It made him feel so alive as the police barged in through the door.

He pulled out a gun.

He didn’t want to fire.

He didn’t have to.

The police did it for him.


End file.
